The original plan was for me to move out. Just because things took a turn with us romantically doesn’t mean he’s ready for me to live with him. I’m not sure I’m ready for that either.
That doesn’t mean it’ll feel good to go.
“You told her no, right?” she asks.
“I told her yes. I’ll take it.”
“Um, why? Am I missing something?”
“Well,” I say, “Molly came by last night and—”
“What?” she squawks.
I sigh. “It’s … fine. I think. I guess. I don’t know. I think he did the right thing.”
“Then why are you moving?”
“Because time never hurt anyone. I rushed in to my relationship with Charlie and—”
“He’s not Charlie.”
“Clearly. I just get in over my head all the damn time, and I don’t want to do that with Peck. If things can work out between us, I want it to happen organically. Slowly. Without the pressure of having me already moved in.”
She considers this. “Makes sense.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words fail to come. Instead, my eyes are glued to a man and a woman who look incredibly familiar. He has a blue hat on his head.
No.
They turn ever so slightly, and I get a better look.
I almost drop the phone.
Molly and Peck. It’s them. Without a doubt. They’re walking across the parking lot next to each other.
Maybe he’s just here getting gas. Maybe Walker needed fuel for something at work. Coincidences happen.
My stomach sloshes, threatening to expel the coffee I drank this morning. I grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn white.
“Navie? I’m gonna have to call you back.”
The words come out wonky. Even I can hear the emotion in my tone.
What the hell is going on?
“What are you doing?” Navie demands. “Are you okay?”
Molly climbs in a little black car, and Peck walks to the other bank of pumps. His truck is partially hidden by the fueling equipment and other trucks in front of it.
The black car speeds out of the parking lot and takes a left. I watch, holding my breath, as Peck comes to the mouth of the parking lot.
Turn right. Turn right towards Crank. Come on, Peck.
“I’ll call you later, Navie.”
I still don’t hang up. I’m too scared to move. If he turns left …
A small gasp squeaks out of my mouth as Peck’s truck turns left. Toward the direction Molly went. Away from Crank.
There’s nothing down that road but a few houses. I ventured that way yesterday morning on a boredom adventure.
“What’s happening?” Navie demands.
I wish I knew.
“Dylan! Damn it.”
“Sorry,” I say. My voice sounds weak. I hate it. “I just, um, well, I just saw Peck follow Molly away from town from Goodman’s.”
“No, you fucking didn’t.”
“Yes, I fucking did.”
“Dyl …”
I put my car in drive. “This doesn’t mean anything,” I tell her. “Maybe it’s a coincidence. And even if it’s not, they’re friends. They’re allowed to be friends.”
“Fuck that.”
“Navie …”
She rambles, her emotions about this situation as all over the place as mine. It makes no sense, and I refuse to believe he’s up to no good.
That’s just not Peck. I feel it in my stomach.
But I also feel that this is something I’m going to have to figure out how to deal with because she’s not leaving. And I can’t ask him not to be friends with her. I’m not that insecure girl, and I refuse to be.
My spirit feels deflated as I pull out onto the road. And head right. Toward Peck’s.
He’s serious about me. I believe that. But I also believe that this thing with Molly is going to have to be navigated, and I don’t know how to do that. I didn’t give myself a whole lot of time to think about it. I did what I do—I jumped in and didn’t consider all the consequences.
Damn it.
I squeeze my temples as I pull into Peck’s driveway.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” I ask Navie.
“I didn’t know if you remembered I was here or not,” she says. “But, yes, of course.”
“Thanks.” I turn off the car. “The guy who owns the house is supposed to get ahold of me today, so I’ll know more then. But even if I can have the keys right away, I don’t think I can sleep there tonight. I won’t have a bed or anything.”
Tears flicker in my eyes. They’re hot, almost scalding, as they topple onto my face.
“Don’t cry,” she whispers. “This will all be fine.”
“I know. It will.” I swallow hard. “I’m just, um, I’m going to get my personal things in a box and figure out what to tell Peck. I’m too emotional to really put things in a great way right now.”
“Want me to tell him?”
I laugh, wiping my face. “No. Thanks. I’d rather not have him hate both of us forever and ever.”
She laughs too. It’s a sad sound, one that’s filled with pity. And I hate that, but I am pretty pitiful at the moment.